


Love It or Leave It

by jencsi



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:02:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27068341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jencsi/pseuds/jencsi
Summary: Nick + nightmares + soft Finn
Relationships: Julie "Finn" Finlay/Nick Stokes
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	Love It or Leave It

He sits up in bed in a panic, darkness all around him, his head buzzing with the lingering images his brain concocted to torture him with tonight. He can feel his shirt sticking to his back and the mattress he just rose from is damp, the sheets wrinkled, the pillow skewed off to the side. He doesn’t remember screaming or yelling at what he dreamt, he just remembers fear and a pressing desire to run as far as he can from the invisible threat. He clumsily reaches over to the nightstand to yank the chain on the lamp, allowing some light into the space. He struggles to catch his breath, staring down at his body wrapped up in the blankets still, head spinning, wondering if he will be sick. 

“Hey,” she murmurs softly from beside him, having sat up when he did but given him some space to process before checking on him. 

“It’s okay,” she soothes, touching his arm with a cautious graze “it’s over.”

“I know,” he chokes out, recognizing the dream for what it was, fake, but the fear was real and the images were partial reconstructions of moments he had witnessed in his life. 

She lays one hand on his shoulder, the other stays holding his arm, putting pressure on his normally strong muscle that now trembles beneath her fingers. 

“What did you see?” she inquires, not wanting to press him for details but hoping to be of more help and comfort. 

“Alley,” he mutters, bringing his palms to his eyes and rubbing them furiously “blood, heard gunshots, it was just like- the night Warrick died-but Grissom saw that, I didn’t get there-until after.”

“You filled in the blanks,” she surmises, tightening her grip on his arm “that’s normal.”

She doesn’t mean to analyze his nightmare but truth be told, she’s a little unsure how to help him. Will it be too much? Not enough? Will he push her away or receive her love with open arms? She hates to hesitate but relationships take time to build trust and even though they’ve had a year or so, she worries she will hurt him in some way she won’t know because of something from his past. 

“I’m sorry Nick,” she adds, pressing her forehead into his shoulder, her hair falling to hide her face, closing her eyes and taking in the softness of his shirt sleeve. 

“It’s fine,” he assures her, pressing his lips to the top of her head, mumbling this into her hair “happens all the time.” 

He lowers his head, wanting to kiss her or at least look at her properly, now that he’s calming down at last, heart beating somewhat normal again. She happens to lift her head at the same time he turns and they bump foreheads unintentionally. She bites her lip, feeling clumsy in her movements, hating that awkward feeling that settles in her chest. But something else rises in her chest, over taking the flush of embarrassment that's been building in her cheeks, burning them. 

She presses her forehead against his, savoring the skin to skin contact, rubbing noses with him, unsure what possessed her to make that move but it makes him smile to her relief. 

That funny feeling in her chest flutters down to her stomach and it tingles unexpectedly. She’s smitten for him. 

“Here,” she mutters quietly “let’s lay down.” 

She places her hand on his shoulder again and guides him back to rest on the mattress and pillow, the sheets are wrinkled but no longer damp, he felt relieved he hadn’t sweat through them. When she lays down beside him, she lifts his arm and wiggles her way to his side. She presses herself against him as close as she can, laying her hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat which has now calmed down since the rush a few minutes ago. She moves her hand back and forth across his chest, rubbing in a soothing motion. Her head finds his shoulder again, laying on it, nuzzling into his neck, feeling him squirm just a little at the affection. He is always so good at spoiling her with these affections she sometimes forgets how to reciprocate equally and even if he never says anything, she still feels inadequate somehow for failing to share affections or be at his level with love. 

Being spoiled like this has taken some time for him to get used to. It’s easy to give her all the cuddles in the world, but allowing himself to be vulnerable, to feel what she has to give him in return, that’s a challenge. Her touch is still so new after this last year or so, unexpected, thrilling, soft. One kiss from her leads him to give her five more in return, she’s that incredible with her love, even if she doesn’t seem to think she is, as she so worriedly confesses to him often in a hushed tone in the darkness. She is always asking him if he’s comfortable, expressing her nervousness, worried she’s being too much or not enough. With his usual smile and soft voice, he assures her “you are fine” never wanting there to be any pressure between them to share love if the other isn’t ready. 

“Better?” she asks in that beautifully soft tone. 

“Yeah,” he says, feeling drowsy, lulled by her affections, the way she moves her hand back and forth across his chest sending his heart fluttering again. 

“Thanks,” he adds, pressing a kiss to her forehead, squeezing her closer to him if that’s even possible. 

“Always,” she says “I mean it when I say I’m here when you need me, even if we weren’t together tonight, you could have called me and I would have come over.”

“I believe it,” he admits of her devotion to him. 

He covers a yawn, adjusting the blankets that became tangled around him in the chaos of the nightmare. 

“Can I get you anything?” she asks now “water, another pillow, more blankets?” 

She shifts away from him, starting to turn over to climb out of bed and retrieve anything he may want but he slips his arms around her and pulls her back to him, purposely bumping her hip against his as he resettles her in his arms. 

“Just you,” he says, cuddling her against him so she won’t leave. 

Her giggles at being playfully swept up in his arms, fill the quiet around them, a much better sound than his own shallow panicked breathing. She curls her arms up against her chest, reaching out to touch his cheek with the back of her hand, tracing over his face delicately, taking in his features the way he does the same to her. She loves his eyes and what they tell her about his soul, how beautiful it is, how he shows that beauty in his compassion, his tender care, in the simple way he spends so much time with her. No one has ever brought her this far before. This was the deepest love she had ever known and the way her heart beat against her chest every time they were together reminded her of how fortunate she was daily. She didn’t always know what she wanted in life but right now, in this moment, she wanted him, and the best part was, he wanted her. 

“We can keep the light on,” she offers now “or the TV, just so it’s not so dark.”

“That’s sweet of you,” he revels of her “but I’m okay now, I promise.” 

She nods as he tugs at the lamp cord to turn it off and throw them back into darkness again. She feels his hand tangle up in her hair, scratching her head gently as he pulls her closer, to him in the dark. When their foreheads touch again, she smiles, letting herself go just in time for him to brush his lips against hers in the softest kiss. A wandering hand squeezes her side and butterflies erupt chaotically in her stomach at this unexpected touch. When she breaks the kiss with her uncontrollable, intoxicating giggles, his heart feels like it’s going to beat it’s way out of his chest. He imagines his heart doing just that, cascading around the room like a firework, because that’s how she makes him feel. Knowing this soft love from her awaited him everyday made all those nightmares disintegrate like the ghosts they were, forcing them back into their cryptic vault where they belonged.


End file.
